Sleep
by luvcmpunk314
Summary: Randy Orton is struggling to keep up with the demands of being a top Superstar in the WWE. When things become almost more than he can handle, he gets an offer of help from CM Punk. Their dislike is strong, but their attraction and passion are stronger. One-shot for LegacyChick. m/m, cursing, light BDSM play


**Summary**: Randy Orton is struggling to keep up with the demands of being a top Superstar in the WWE. When things become almost more than he can handle, he gets an offer of help from CM Punk. Their dislike is strong, but their attraction and passion are stronger. Set during the filming of Twelve Rounds: Reloaded

**Warning**: Cursing, m/m sex, light BDSM play

**Disclaimer**: I'm not affiliated with the WWE. I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this fic. I'm not making any money from this story. I know Randy and Punk aren't gay and don't engage in kinky nights together. Well actually I don't know that since I don't know them, but I'm pretty positive that they don't. Randy, since I know you look at these fics, feel free to tweet me a yay or nay.

**A/N:** This is a one shot written for the supremely talented LegacyChick here on FF. She has a plethora of smutty stories on her page, check 'em out. She was the 500th reviewer to _Sweat, Chains, and Love_ so I had to give her a smutty treat as a reward. ;-) She requested Randy and Punk. This is inspired by an interview I read/heard where Randy talked about how tough it was doing the movie while staying active on WWE programming. Repeat song was the creepily sexy version of _Sweet Dreams_ by Marilyn Manson. Enjoy!

* * *

Randy was fucking tired. He'd just gotten off the plane from Toronto where he was filming his movie. He wanted to fall asleep in the back seat of the car driving him to the arena for RAW but he didn't. He knew the little snatch of sleep would only make him feel groggy and he needed to be sharp in the ring tonight. Randy was already on Vince's shit list after popping another one of their "random" piss tests. Because of that he couldn't afford to put in a sloppy performance. He might be one of the WWE's top Superstars, but that didn't mean he wasn't subject to the capricious whims of its CEO and subsequent de-pushes just like everybody else. So he stayed awake and decided to put the drive time to good use. Pulling out his cell he called his opponent for the night to go over a couple of their spots.

* * *

Punk watched Randy walk into the arena. He could tell right off that the tall man was exhausted. His slow pace looked like it was due to sluggishness, rather than the characteristic glide he was known for. Punk hated Randy Orton. But what he hated even more was the fact that he was so goddamn attracted to him. And he hated that on occasion he gave into that attraction, using that body and letting Randy use his for some of the most amazing orgasms he'd ever had.

As Punk continued to watch him, Randy looked up from the script one of the gophers had just given him and caught Punk looking at him. Their eyes held for a moment, just long enough for a sizzle of electricity to crackle along his skin. And he knew, just like he always knew, that Randy had felt the same. Both of them looked away at the same time, pretending that nothing had happened. But that didn't mean they wouldn't connect again later on.

* * *

Punk was in the locker room adjusting his kick pads, solid black now that he was back to being a heel. He missed his stars, but he did whatever was necessary to push his character. The door swung open and Randy walked in. He glanced at Punk before heading to his locker cubby. It was only two down from his. Punk swung around to face him and straddled the bench.

"When's the last time you really slept?"

Randy looked over his shoulder as he unlaced his boots. "What do you mean? I sleep just fine."

Punk snorted in disbelief. "You really trying to bullshit me on this? I'm the king of no sleep. I recognize the signs."

Randy dropped his laces and turned to face Punk fully. "I'm flying back and forth between shows and filming this fucking movie. I gotta stay up late since nearly the whole thing takes place at night, I can't sleep on planes in those fucking tiny seats, and I'm barely in the hotel for a few hours before I gotta get up and be somewhere else."

Punk smirked. "Maybe if you weren't so tall you'd be able to stretch out and sleep on the plane." Those blue eyes hardened and narrowed at him.

"Why the fuck did you ask if you were just gonna make your stupid smart ass comments?"

Punk couldn't help needling Randy a little bit more. "My comments are stupid _and_ smart? Boy, they sure learned you a lot in those St. Louis schools."

Randy went back to unlacing his boots, roughly yanking the strings loose. "Fuck you, Punk."

Now Punk smiled. "If you wanted sympathy you should have just said so."

Randy sighed roughly. "What I want is to be able to fucking let go and relax. And to get some goddamn sleep."

Punk hated himself for saying it, but the words came out anyway. "I might be able to help with that." His own self-loathing at what he was offering drove him to make another dig at Randy. "And I don't mean with some drug for you to pop or snort."

Randy glared at him for a long moment. But then he reached into his bag and pulled something out, laying it down on the bench between them. He gathered his toiletries and towel and headed to the showers. Punk watched him walk away before he looked to see what Randy had put there. It was a hotel room key.

* * *

Randy lay in his hotel room bed after RAW. He was wide awake. His sleep schedule was so jacked-up he knew he wasn't going to be falling asleep for a while. He was tempted to jerk off, thinking that might help. But he didn't really feel like it. He was tired of solo orgasms that left him feeling empty and only partially satisfied. He was about to reach for the remote, hoping the TV would lull him to sleep when he heard the little beep of his hotel room door being unlocked. Randy sat up in bed. There was only one person who had his hotel room key.

Just like he expected, Punk came into the darkened room. As he approached the bed, he passed through small bars of light from the windows. The cold blue glow of the moon revealed his tattoos, but made them appear all black, none of the bright colors visible. Randy could make out the dark outline of a bag in Punk's hand. He immediately hardened in anticipation. He knew what that bag meant.

Punk reached the side of the bed and set the bag down on the nightstand. "You're still awake," he said.

Randy nodded. "You knew I would be."

Punk reached out and cupped his cheek, his thumb surprisingly gentle as he brushed it over his lips. "That's why I'm here." He dropped his hand. "Lay down."

Randy lay back against the pillows, watching as Punk stripped off his clothes. He took everything off until he was completely naked. Randy reached for his boxers, but Punk stopped him.

"Let me do it."

Punk climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. Randy could feel his body heat seeping through the thin cloth of his boxers. Punk leaned forward and softly brushed his lips across his cheek. He came just to the corner of his mouth, but he didn't kiss him. Randy turned his head to try and steal a kiss but Punk avoided him.

"No. You have to earn it."

Punk slowly pulled his boxers down and off, Randy helping him with a shift of his legs. Then he reached into the bag and pulled out a set of cuffs. Randy recognized them. They were leather, the inside lined with soft suede. Punk dangled the cuffs in front of him watching him with a steady gaze. Randy stared back at him for a long moment unable to just immediately give in. Eventually though, he lifted his hands over his head, allowing Punk to clasp the cuffs on his wrists and chain him to the bed.

Punk upended the bag, spilling out its contents onto the bed. It was dark and the items fell quickly so Randy didn't know what all Punk had brought tonight. That was fine, he liked not knowing. Randy watched as Punk pulled on a pair of gloves. In the dark room he couldn't quite see what they looked like; he only knew they were black and smelled like leather. Punk trailed his palms over his chest and he felt what seemed like tiny spikes. One corner of Punk's lips curled up in a half-grin.

"Vampire gloves. You like?"

Randy nodded as Punk continued to run his hands over him.

"A soft touch and I can make your skin so sensitive." Punk raised a hand. "But one slap and I can hurt you, make you bleed in dozens of tiny little pin pricks."

Randy's mouth went dry as he waited for that hand to fall in a slap. It didn't happen. Punk lowered his hand slowly so slowly, until Randy's muscles were twitching with the expectation of his touch. Finally that hand landed on him. Punk smoothed the gloves lightly over his chest and down to his abs. It felt strange yet amazing, the spikes raising goose bumps on his skin. Randy's breath started to come a little heavier, a little faster, his skin tingling everywhere the leather and spikes trailed, just like Punk had said it would. And every time Punk raised his hand his breath caught in his throat as he wondered if Punk would strike him. He never did. But just the anticipation of the hit was enough to have his heart racing and his cock stiff and hard as it lay on his belly.

The sensual torture continued on, Punk's hands drifting down to his thighs then back up to tease the ultra-sensitive skin over his pelvis. Randy groaned deep in his throat, his hands pulling reflexively at the cuffs as Punk loosely wrapped his fist around his shaft, pumping him with a light touch. The grip of the vampire gloves on such a vulnerable part of him was threatening, yet oddly arousing. He knew Punk could hurt him like this. Yet the dangerous thrill of it had him pushing his hips up seeking more. He looked up at Punk and saw him watching him, no, _studying_ him. His eyes, just like his tattoos, were black in the moonlit room. And he knew that Punk was about to push him a little bit further.

Punk stretched out over him, their bodies melding together in a meeting of soft skin over hard muscles. Punk brushed his lips over his.

"Kiss me."

Randy parted his lips to kiss his lover, welcoming his tongue into his mouth. But just when Punk's tongue touched his he squeezed his hand lightly around his cock, the vampire teeth biting into his flesh. Randy gasped and his whole body jerked in a delicious mix of surprise, pain, and pleasure. He hadn't expected that but _fuck_ he liked it. Randy exhaled softly as Punk released him and Punk inhaled, making Randy feel as though he were swallowing down his breath. Punk deepened the kiss, squeezing his cock again as he did. Randy groaned, loving the dark, dangerous pleasure of those teeth pricking along his skin. His arousal shot through the roof as Punk ground his hips against him, his cock pressing onto his thigh, and kept kissing him, their tongues tangling together wildly. Both of them were breathing heavily now, hot breaths flowing between them as their lips pressed together. And every so often Punk would grip his cock again, the tiny spikes sending a pulse of pleasure along his shaft. Suddenly Punk ended the kiss and reared back onto his knees. Randy looked down Punk's body. Not that he needed any confirmation, but he saw that Punk was as hard as he was, his thick cock standing straight up. Randy licked his lips at the sight. He was achingly ready for more, ready for Punk to fuck him. But he knew Punk, which meant he knew that wouldn't come just yet.

He watched, his chest still pumping with his heavy breaths as Punk stripped off the gloves and tossed them onto the floor. He picked up a bottle of lube and dripped the liquid over two fingers. Those slick fingers lowered to his ass and without being told he parted his thighs. Punk smirked and he briefly wondered why. But when one of those fingers slid inside him he immediately gave up on trying to figure out the workings of Punk's mind. He just opened himself up to the pleasure of that finger sliding in and out of him agonizingly slowly. A shudder ran through him as Punk pushed another finger into him, twisting and scissoring them in the same deliberate rhythm. Punk picked up something but before it came into his line of sight Punk gave him an order.

"Close your eyes and keep 'em closed until I say otherwise."

Randy shut his eyes, as always amazed that he trusted Punk like this. He shivered as he felt the soft brush of feathers over his belly. A feather tickler. That was okay; it felt good as it brushed over his already sensitive skin. But then the feathers left his body and he jumped as not even a second later he felt the sharp slap of leather against his nipple. Punk continued on like that, brushing the feathers over random places on his body and then quickly switching to stinging slaps. Sometimes the leather hit his skin once, sometimes twice, sometimes three times. There was no pattern to how many times he would feel that sharp slap, or when it would be the light touch of the feathers, or where either would fall on his body. Randy moaned and twisted in his restraints, his brain and his body conflicted on whether to get away from the exquisite torture or to get closer. His flesh was hot and stinging everywhere the leather had landed and his cock was throbbing. He could feel pre-cum sliding down his shaft to pool on his belly. Randy couldn't see but he knew Punk must be using a two-sided toy to be able to switch back and forth so quickly. And all the while the fingers of his other hand kept thrusting inside him, stretching him open and brushing against that sensitive spot deep within him. Punk spoke, and with his eyes closed Punk's voice was a disembodied whisper in the quiet room.

"Randy, Randy, Randy. You know how I feel about you. And yet you let me use you like this." Punk lightly struck his other nipple with the leather. "You must be sick to allow it."

Randy kept his eyes closed as he answered. "No sicker than the fucker who likes to be abused by someone he hates just as much as he likes to dish it out." The leather slapped him harder than before and he gasped. But then he felt Punk's mouth on the sore spot, laving it gently with his tongue. Punk's tongue traveled across his torso, lapping at his skin, sucking the flesh into his mouth. Randy held his breath as Punk moved down his body, the soft hair on his face brushing against his shaft. He kept still as Punk's tongue slowly licked across his cockhead. But when Punk sucked him into his mouth his breath exploded from his chest and his hips started to roll, pumping up at the same rhythm Punk sucked him. Punk's mouth slid up and down on his cock, slick and hot, drawing moan after moan from him as he helplessly thrust his hips up over and over. Punk knew what he was doing, knew just the right combination of speed and suction to drive him wild.

Randy was breathing hard, his body arching up off the bed. The pleasure was starting to build up so intensely that he didn't think he'd be able to take much more without losing it. Finally Punk's fingers withdrew and he took his mouth off his cock. Randy heard the pop of the lube cap being opened again. Punk's voice came out of the darkness once more.

"Open your eyes, Randy." Randy did and looked to see Punk stroking his hand over his own cock, the hard flesh glistening in the moonlight. He swallowed hard. Punk had coated himself with the lube, which meant that finally he would feel that thick shaft thrusting inside him. Punk lowered his body down. But just when Randy felt his cockhead pressing against his entrance he stopped.

"Ask for it."

Randy's fingers tightened into fists in his cuffs as Punk stared down at him. He wanted to deny the arrogant request. But he needed to feel Punk inside him and he knew he wouldn't get his release any other way. So after the barest hesitation, he ceded victory to Punk in their little dominance battle and asked for it. "I want you, Punk."

Punk pressed inside him the barest inch. "Want me to what, Randy?"

Randy grit his teeth. He held out for a little longer before answering this time, until Punk gripped his cock and started stroking him. Randy groaned and said what Punk wanted to hear. "I want you to fuck me."

Punk smirked. "That wasn't too hard was it?"

His retort never found its way out of his mouth because Punk pushed deep inside him, bringing another groan from deep within his chest. Punk started thrusting, moving slowly, his hand still pumping his cock. Randy's chest was tight at the simultaneous pleasures of being fucked and stroked at the same time. Punk came down on top of him, their bodies pressing together. Punk kissed him lightly.

"How do you want me to fuck you, Randy?"

Randy breathed his answer into Punk's mouth. "Hard." Punk started to move faster, his thrusts becoming rougher. But that wasn't enough for him. He wanted more. "Harder, Punk." Randy gasped as Punk pushed into him with more force. But he knew that Punk could give him more, that he was still holding back. So he egged him on until he got what he wanted. "Harder Punk! Fuck me hard-." He was cut off as Punk's lips crashed onto his, his tongue thrusting deep into his mouth in a ferocious kiss. And Punk started slamming his cock into him in a wild, fierce rhythm. His cockhead hit that sweet bundle of nerves inside him with nearly every stroke, making his belly clench tight at the feeling. Randy knew Punk didn't like him and to be honest the feeling was mutual. But when they came together like this, they always managed to bring out nothing but the hottest passion, the most exquisite feelings of pleasure from each other.

Randy couldn't move his arms as Punk rode him, pushing him closer and closer to his release. But he set his feet flat on the bed, using the leverage it gave him to push his hips up and meet Punk's deep thrusts. At the same time the movements forced his cock through the tight grip of Punk's fist. Randy felt Punk's body starting to tighten over his and he knew his lover was close. He pushed his hips up faster and Punk matched his speed until their bodies were slapping together, hot and slick with sweat. Randy's cock was throbbing, every nerve ending inside him stimulated as Punk thrust inside his ass. He felt his orgasm pulsing in his shaft, his spine tingling, and his balls hard. But he bit his lip and stubbornly held back, wanting Punk to come first. Punk's thrusts became erratic, faster and tighter, before he finally groaned and went stiff. When Randy felt the heat of Punk's release spilling into him, he let himself go. His orgasm shot up his cock, bursting out of him in a hot rush. He shouted out as his cum made Punk's fingers move on him in a wet slide, working him for every amazing pulse of pleasure he could get until finally they both collapsed in a spent heap.

* * *

The two of them lay on their sides, their bodies cooling and their breathing returning to normal. Randy felt his eyelids getting heavy as Punk rubbed his arm in a surprisingly gentle and calming caress. Punk whispered in his ear.

"Can you sleep now?"

Randy gave a ragged sigh. "Yeah." It was quiet for a moment before Punk spoke again.

"I won't be here when you wake up."

Randy felt something that was dangerously close to disappointment deep in his chest, but he didn't voice it. Instead he answered simply, "I know." The room grew quiet again and Randy lay there enjoying the peace until finally, he slept.

**The End**

* * *

**A/N**: Whew! Love a challenge. Hope this came out okay Ms. Chick. Thank you for being amazing as a reviewer and a writer!


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